tiny tiny pieces
by Star.Splattered.Sky
Summary: Now she's ripping wings off of butterflies- 3. smiles like razor blades and hand grenades; "Holy crap, Sasuke. You're in love with me." But he keeps his mouth grim and lips sealed together tight, dead straight like the flat line of a hospital monitor.
1. i think you know what i mean

tiny tiny pieces

...

michi to you all

_i think you know what i mean_

1. You are Haruno Sakura. One day, you will catch up to Uchiha Sasuke.

_i merge into the sea of people_

_and melt away into nothingness_

He's attractive.

He's always sitting alone by the fence, avoiding your best friend Ino and that clever but cunning red-head Karin. He seems like he's watching, but you're not sure what he's looking for. Certainly not you, though. His top two buttons are always undone. He has some sort of thing for your other best friend Naruto. He has a sketchy family history, filled with coup d'etats and too much power, but he never brings it up. He never brings anything up.

His aloof attitude makes the girls swoon. He avoids people but they seem to flock him all the same, as if the distance is alluring. Even surrounded by a million people, you bet he feels just as alone as you do, standing in an empty classroom with its pristine white walls and straight desks and _you_.

(One of these things are not like the others. You know this too well.)

He looks like he's older than the rest of the class. Large Adam's apple, broad shoulders, deep voice. He looks like a grown man, while the rest of them are small and childish. You take solace in the fact that despite the swirling abyss of mystery others see in his eyes, you see a scared little boy. You see a child, just like when you look in the mirror at your own plain reflection.

Sometimes, you can't help but feel a little special, being one of the only ones that can really see him for who he really is. You also can't help but feel envious, because Naruto sees him too. And Naruto is not afraid to reach out of his barriers. You know Naruto is helping him, because Naruto helps people. You just wish Naruto could see that you maybemaybe need that sort of help too.

You're a little afraid that you're falling for him. But at the same time it's fitting, someone as sequestered as you falling for someone as elusive as him. All the other girls like him to, so, as it always seems to be, it doesn't really matter how you feel.

He doesn't notice you.

(You can't blame him. Nobody really notices you, even with the shock of pastel running down your dress-shirt clad back. You don't even notice _yourself_, sometimes.)

You sit at the back, not stuttering like Hinata but nonetheless quiet and painfully reserved-unless, of course, you have to elbow Naruto in the nose for saying something stupid involving your body parts or ramen. Naruto has a habit of saying stupid things, just like you have a habit of not saying anything. Naruto also had a habit of just being _stupid _in general.

(Naruto's the only one that you show yourself to, in your sporadic bouts of uninhibited violence. You _love _Naruto. Naruto may be faraway, but the bright rays still manage to overcome the distance, piercing through your thick blockade. You love Naruto, and he's the only one that can reach Naruto. Therefore, you feel like you are in his debt.)

He sits off to the side, gazing out the large windows; so close but miles away.

(You have a dream that you're in a race and you just can't catch him, no matter how hard you think you're trying. Normally it takes all of your willpower to lift yourself out of bed, but after the vivid images burnt into your eyes you don't mind getting the hell out of there. Sometimes you see him when you close your eyes. You blame it on the fact that he's always there but never _here, _but you're pretty sure you'd be a hypocrite for calling him out on it_. _He's haunting your thoughts and dreams like all the other ghosts that follow you and haunt you and make you scream bloody murder in the supposed sanctuary of your fairy princess pink bedroom. You think that's what he's like; just a ghost. Sometimes, you're half convinced he's just a figment of your imagination.)

He's the top student. You are number two by the slimmest of margins.

You don't think he sees you at all. You have 99.99% of the same classes but you don't say anything so he doesn't see you. He doesn't see how much you loathe yourself and the ridiculous walls you can't help but build around yourself and the masks you wears.

(You don't know what you're protecting. You feel so empty; there's nothing inside but hollow space. Sure; it's a defence mechanism, but it's a futile one at best.)

But you see him. You see how much he loathes himself (except for when he's offering a hand out to Naruto; he looks like he thinks he knows what kind of person he wants to and likes to be). You see him for the faraway boy that he is, distant from the world you pretend to love. You see him try to ground himself by beating the shit out of whoever he wants, whenever he wants, trying to convince himself that he has control over something in his life.

(You stopped trying to maintain control a long time ago. You're ahead of him in that. It's probably the only thing you're beating him in, but you are not proud. There is nothing to be proud _of_.)

Naruto is picking fights again. Naruto is too bright; too intense and vivid and, when angry, you're pretty sure you're suffocating in the storm of fiery passion. You try to talk it out-try and make Naruto see that it's all _hurting_ you, but it's not good enough. It's one of the rare times you're being honest but Naruto's just not listening and it's raining and you're crying and you're dripping and fading and why can't anyone ever hear what I'm saying!

(I'm crying out for help, here! I think I maybesortakinda_really_ want to kill myself. Please hear me. Please, please.

Help me.)

And Naruto goes and fights him. It's ripping you apart into tiny tiny pieces, and you can't watch so you run to the grass and get sick by the black and barren cherry blossom tree. As usual, nobody notices.

You feel like you're disappearing. Retching out pieces of your soul you can't get back.

(Suck it up, you bite at herself angrily, spitting the acidic bile out of your mouth. It's not like you had much of a soul in the first place.)

Later, you find out what happened from some babbling classmate with brown hair and brown eyes. He and Naruto got attacked by a group of burly older kids, angry by default and much too brash. They teamed up and they beat the crap out of the seniors and he helped Naruto up and it was _soo_ dramatic! Because these two lost and lonely boys trying to find themselves in a sea of nothingness is totally the same as one of those stupid romantic dramas that Ino likes to watch.

(Personally, you can't stand them. You're not too sure why, but there were times when you had to run to the bathroom and shock away the panic attack with the splash of icy water. You may be the (second) smartest person in your class, but you do a lot of things you don't (can't) understand. Like why you use blunt paperclips to etch Nirvana lyrics all across your abdomen, like an spiderweb made of teenage angst, until you are red and bloody.)

Naruto finally has a good friend. A brother. Someone to hold on to. Someone important. You feel like you should be happy for Naruto (and for him. You can't _ever _forget about him), because Naruto of all people deserves to be happy, but all you feel, all you can see, is that you mean nothing now. Never have, never will, you are _nothing_.

(You dig your nails deep into your palm, until your skin snaps and blood is dripping to the pavement, to ground yourself; keep yourself from floating away like those helium balloons you think you used to love-after all, nobody would reach up to grab you. You do it to feel something. Anything. Please. Tell me, do I exist?)

You watch them stand on the hill. Ino likes to stand beside him (he's so hot! Don't you think he's hot? With that hair, those _eyes, _you can't say you don't want him!_)_ with her standard pleated skirt hiked up a good four inches and her long pony-tail blowing in the light breeze. He's standing tall and calm at the front of the pack, staring at the sunrise with the faintest smile on his lips. He's realized something tangible and profound. You can see it in the way he's standing, the relaxed confidence that's rolling off of him in waves (if you ever have to drown, that's what you want to drown in). Here he is, beating you again and again, finding stability and solid ground before you can even pull your oxfords and knee-high socks on.

And that's when it hits you-no, you're not in _love_ with the boy (with his shirt rolled up to his elbows, dried blood on his porcelain forehead. You think about how you've always hated your own, long and wide and just so stupidly large), but you understand him. You want him to understand you. Know you, for who you want to be. You want to lift up your shirt and show him the web of pain carved into your skin and for him to read the story branded on your stomach. You want to look at his bruised and bloody knuckles for what they really are, not just a symbol of violence and masculinity but the ache and blisters that surround his heart. You think maybe you do want to love the boy. You think that maybemaybe you want him to love you back. It hits you like a four-ton truck going 100 miles an hour and leaves you flushed and breathless, and for once in your life you know what to do. You reaches out, and although he's still physically quite a ways away, you don't think you've ever been so close to him.

(You don't think you've ever been this close to anybody.)

You let the pink strands flutter away (along with those choking inhibitions and expectations, along with all that you know you aren't) like the butterflies and fairy tales you've always tried so hard to believe in. You're not asking for a movie anymore, not now. Ino will lecture you about how you had such beautiful hair what were you thinking how could you do such a travesty! (And Ino will have a point. It took you two long years to grow it out, and less than two minutes to decide you wanted it all gone, but at this point, you are beyond regrets.)

Naruto will whine about how he loved to run his fingers through your thick locks. (And you, admittedly, enjoyed the contact. You're not entirely comfortable with being touched-in fact, you're not comfortable with it _at all_, but there's a sense of security Naruto's ministrations bring. You trust Naruto, sometimes-most of the time-more than you trust yourself.)

But you will smile and say that you are more than 10 (12, 15, 20, does it really matter?) inches of hair.

You are Haruno Sakura. One day, you will catch up to Uchiha Sasuke.

;

;

;

AN: SO this will be an anthology of sorts of Sasusaku-centric fics losely based of off different songs. This particular one is based on the ending but not the special. Some may or may not be continued, depending if you want it. If you have any suggestions, just tell me and I'll take a listen and see :) PLEASE REVIEW OR I WILL CRY. Maybe. But still. Pretty please?


	2. 11 Truths about Haruno Sakura

tiny tiny pieces

...

beautiful world-carolina liar

_2. 11 truths about Haruno Sakura_

"I want a divorce."

"No you don't."

"No, I don't."

_yeah, this city is endless_

_and i'm, i'm walking alone_

1. Average number of times Sakura has considered taking that scalpel and spearing through her jugular during surgery: 5.245

Sakura is on her fourth major surgery today and it is not even noon. She had woken up to the shrill beeping of her alarm clock, swallowed eight cups of black coffee and had a shower in 2 degree Celsius water before running 4 stop lights, flipping 12 birds and honking her horn a grand total of 49 times.

(She had considered knocking back a few Xanax, but she's a doctor and she knows what _that _will do to her steady hands.)

She had thought of 27 creative ways to kill herself with the cap she uses to cover her horrendously pink hair in this surgery alone.

(Needless to say, it's just another average day for Sakura.)

She's buffering in this deadly-living state, no quite dead but sure as hell not alive. Sakura needs change, and quick, or the change won't really be a change.

2. Sakura hates love songs.

They seem to act as a big highlighter, indicating what she and Sasuke could have had, should have had, how great and epic their love story almost was. Instead, they were...well, Sakura wasn't all too sure.

Never, not in a million years, would Sakura have imagined that _marrying the love of your life _would make you so miserable.

So when she's driving home and the idealistic Top 40 songs keep on popping up, she literally screams in the middle of the road and punches the radio to pieces.

The silence is a hell of a lot more comforting.

3. Sakura loves Sasuke.

It's in her, like, DNA or something, a segment that says hey, you're going to love this boy, kay? beside her colouring mutation and debilitating masochism. She could have an affair with Romeo Montague yet her heart would still lie with the dark and sullen man. He made her heart churn and lungs burn and fingers twitch, all towards him and those drawled out words. She knows that Sasuke loves her too, as frigid his actions may be, it's still love. She didn't dare take comfort in the fact that hey, at least he's damned to the same fate I am.

Which, was, being stuck in a coma of a marriage with the love of your life.

She doesn't know where they went wrong; she thinks they probably just faded out from being in the sun too long. Or maybe luminescent Sakura got too jaded. But despite having all the love in the world for each other, it wasn't enough to keep their marriage clean.

She fell in love with Sasuke when he told her to stop being an idiot when she tried to convince the ever-exuberant Gai-sensei to reduce their 100 laps of youth to 10. He fell in love with her when she managed to haggle them to 45, because that sort of commitment to a cause shows the values of youth!-or, because he may or may not have sprained his ankle in a fight that didn't exist because _Uchiha_'s don't get into fights. They're much too pristine and clever for that sort of thing. Either way, they became high school sweethearts, survived the ultimate test that was University, and, like every song on Ino's iPod, they got married on a sunny day in June.

But Ino grew up, and her playlists now consisted of Adele. Read into that however you'd like.

4. Sakura is a complete and utter masochist.

When she was younger, she'd stuff her face with natto, despite her severe resentment for the bean substance. It tasted like sugared-glue and made her gain weight like crazy. But she still scooped up the paste and shoved it into her mouth, cringing as her body protested.

He's sitting at the kitchen table. He usually works everyday, even on Saturday mornings when Sakura is home free to wallow in her thoughts. There are two cups of coffee, one presumably for her (don't you know? I take at least 5), and a stack of papers sitting on the clear glass top.

"What are you doing here?" It's not a question you should ever have to ask your husband, but they were running out of options.

"I have a day off," Sasuke mumbles, fiddling with his pen. Yeah right, Sakura wants to say. The tower of pages is even bigger than when Sakura reads the time off of the clock for the cold man/woman/child laying cut-open on the table, letting Sakura become the ultimate scapegoat for the still of yet another beating heart. That's not a day off, that's a load of work you're bringing into places it doesn't belong.

If Sakura were to bring her work home, there would be blood on the table and on her latex-clad hands, while she swallowed Vicodin after Vicodin and told herself if you start to cry then so help me I will rip your heart-

Sakura did not bring her work home for many, many reasons.

"I want a divorce."

Sasuke's hand stills, but other than that, there is no reaction. His face his smooth and cool, like when he locks the front door or drives to work or says I love you.

"No, you don't." Sasuke spoke carefully, as if his serene appearance could will Sakura otherwise.

"No," Sakura mused, "I don't. But I wanted to get married. I wanted to be the Head Surgeon at Konoha General. And where has that gotten me? Not even thirty and having a mid-life crisis."

"There is nothing wrong with your life."

"Yeah. And there's nothing wrong with our marriage, either."

"There's nothing wrong with our marriage."

"Sasuke-"

"I'm trying, Sakura."

"I know. I _know_. I just...never mind."

Sasuke has his head in his hands now, so Sakura takes the cup of coffee and slips away.

5. Sakura knows that the world is a very beautiful place.

But she's never quite been able to wrench herself free of the city, with it's grey scale walls and iron grip. She wants to feel something else beneath her feet, like sand or dirt. Instead, she tiptoes on the humming concrete. The sidewalk quavers and buzzes, as if it is pulsing with a heartbeat that she could stop and restart with the flick of her wrists. There is sound and feeling being projected audaciously into the air, up into the clouds.

The city is lively, yes, but she's walking alone.

6. Sakura doesn't drink anymore.

Sasuke-kun told her, hey, Sakura, you don't need to be a girl trapped in a bottle. And she believed him. She smashed the vodka in her drawer and drained the flask in her bag and said goodbye liquor, relinquish your hold on me.

Now, she's staring at the window of the pub, trying to see if she can picture herself in there. There is noise bursting out the door and puffing through the chimney. She can almost feel that familiar slick of bourbon making it's way down towards her stomach, ready to wreck havoc in her liver. She can see her reflection on the glass, small and somber in her red scarf.

Reflections are funny things; depending on what angle you're at, you're seeing something totally different from someone to the right or left of you. You don't know if you're on the surface of the mirror, or behind it, or right in the middle somewhere. Half of her wants to step inside, to take a definite position instead of floating in the betweens.

But Sasuke still loves her, and even if the paper that binds them is crumbling to ash, it's enough to make her walk away. Sakura's not sure why, but she seems to have a highly addictive personality.

God, she's a shitty doctor.

7. Sakura has wished for two things since she was sixteen. One of them was to marry Sasuke. The other was to become the youngest Head Surgeon at Konoha General.

She had thought these were the key to success and happiness. But her job was driving her insane and her husband freezing her heart.

She doesn't know what she's wishing for anymore.

8. Sakura is very, _very _good at her job.

She can name all major blood vessels in her sleep. She knows the best anaesthetics depending on what surgery, the best way to cut, the right amount of rehabilitation. She knows the human body inside in out, how to hurt it, how to heal it, and how to kill it.

She does not, though, know what is wrong with her.

9. As mentioned above, Sakura is very good at her job. So it is once in a blue moon that she loses a patient.

That is half true. She loses the most in the country, but operates on more people than some of the smaller cities combined. Her mortality percentage is so low that it is _barely considered a percent._

That does not mean there are not some who do not wake up.

She has just lost a young girl, and is currently losing her mind.

Which is why she drives to Sasuke's office. Cold as he may be, his hugs are warm and more comforting than sweatpants or converse or Vicodin. They go to bed at the same time for the first time in 6 and a half months.

10. Sakura likes to be prepared.

There is hidden drawer in her office desk. Safely hidden behind a guide to taxes and two locks, Sakura has been careful not to let anyone know of it's existence.

She twists the key in the lock, listening to the sharp click before moving to the next lock.

First, there is a copy of her will. It's not particularly interesting, with legal language taking up the majority of the space. Next is a copy of her birth certificate.

Then, divorce papers. Her name has not been signed, and nor has Sasuke's, but there is a space for hers and one for his. Below that is a pre-written resignation letter, typed up in point 10 Times New Roman, a space for the date and one for her signature.

She finds the papers she needs, and pulls them out.

11. When Sakura knows what she wants, she will stop at nothing to get it.

Her role is _coveted_, men and women alike eyeing her with jealousy, whispering about what she lacks and they could offer.

But she does not want it. She wants-needs-to get _out_, before the blade of the guillotine ends it's suspension and plummets down. Her signature is in fresh black ink, the slight smudge of hesitation before it swirls absolute certainty. Conviction is laced in her steps as she nods at the receptionist, tilts her head in recognition. She's been here many times.

She doesn't bother knocking on the door. His black hair falls over his eyes as he watches her march towards his desk, manila folder in hand.

"Sakura, you need to think this through."

"I have. It's what I want."

As his hand grasps the edge of the folder, she can feel the thick restraints over her lungs loosen. She gasps at the air, the beautiful and wretched air of the city. This has been all she had wanted, and now she was letting it go. She almost cries as he nods without further argument, resigned and sad. He opens the folder and swishes down his signature, like she's seen him do so many times before. He's hurt, she can see it in the tightness around his mouth, but Sakura has to survive.

She's okay, walking alone.

.

.tbc

AN: I wanted this to be better, but the second instalment will be. What do you think Sakura did in the end? PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!


	3. smiles like razor blades

AN: oh my. WARNING: CONTAINS WAY TOO MUCH SWEARING. Seriously. It's filthy. This was meant to be for Yuuki-Hime 2097 who wanted snobby Sasuke who is secretly sappy, whom is in love with Sakura who does not give a fuck. I couldn't make Sasuke sappy enough! If you want a redo I'll work on it...this kind of just came out. The ending sort of sucks. Also, there might be some typos that I'd appreciate if you point out :) the song is meant to put some perspective into the life of a child soldier/shinobi.

tiny tiny pieces

...

youth without youth-metric

_3. smiles like razor blades and hand grenades_

"Holy crap, Sasuke. You're in love with me."

But he keeps his mouth grim and lips sealed together tight, dead straight like the flat line of a hospital monitor.

So Sakura laughs and laughs, because even after all the hearts he's crushed he can't even figure out his own.

_hangman we played rubber soul with a razor blade_

_the punch line came-can you read my mind? read my mind_

...

Day 5. Or 1.

Sasuke wakes up. He is in a cell of some sort, smelling of rancid flesh and water.

And, grapefruit. Whatever the hell that's supposed to mean.

He can't really see. Or, he can see, but only blotches and blurs of blackened blobs, and the inside of his eyelids.

There's something tickling his nose, and he wants to kill it. Burn it, destroy it-doesn't even matter if it's _himself-_a strand of his hair or the trickle of his blood-he wants it gone. Also, he notes, he has no feeling past his neck.

Which is unfortunate. Sort of.

Took you long enough, a voice in his head says. He tells it to shut up.

Except, it's not in his head, so it doesn't hear him.

"Seriously. I've been working for almost a week on you. You better have insurance, or you're kind of screwed."

Sakura, he wants to drawl out, because she's annoying and girly and is so easily seduced. So he does.

"You remember my name. Cool. Cool cool fucking cool."

Part of Sasuke thinks that Sakura swearing is like Sakura trying to be strong, and is therefore futile and absolutely ridiculous. The other really wants to wring her neck out. Like a towel. Or maybe a sponge. But he still can't feel anything below his neck, so he's not even sure if he still has hands to wrap around her neck. The last time, he remembers it being so fucking tiny that the tip of his thumb and middle finger easily grazed each other.

"My body," Sasuke snarls, because you don't mess around with an Uchiha without expecting the full extent of his wrath. Except since he has no limbs in his control, he has to resort to snarling. How pathetic. Fuck, he can't even glare because he has no idea where she is.

"Your body."

"Where the fuck is it?"

"Whe-is this a trick question?"

"I can't _feel _it."

"Oh. Yeah. I didn't really want you trying to kill me. Or pissing everywhere."

He could make out her silhouette now, slight feminine curves against the jagged rocks. Thinking that Sakura was a _woman _made Sasuke want to snort and laugh because that was just weird. Then again, everything coming out of her mouth was weird. His head feels like it's being beaten under a bulldozer.

"Why aren't I dead?"

"What? No how are you? Where am I? Hey, you could be dead and I could be like, your keeper. That would be pretty fucked, wouldn't it?"

"_Sakura._"

"I don't really owe you anything, so. Also, how the fuck am I supposed to know?"

Then she gets up and leaves, with the screech of iron and dust, and then he's left to wish death upon her and her family.

...

Day 6. Or 2.

"Morning ,Sunshine!"

She's here again. God, she's so annoying.

"Why are you here?"

"Because you're a fucker that makes me want to kill myself. Now, stick your tongue out."

She shoves a thermometer past his parched lips and hums.

"You're hot. Well, not like that. Actually, like that too, but-fuck. Have the guards been giving you _any _water?"

He doesn't say anything because it's kind of fun, watching her flail off of sanity. Naruto seems-or at least seemed-to be content on keeping his mind in check, but Sakura always like him better so she's doing it his way.

She takes his silence as a _no, they have not been giving me any water _so she curses loudly and brings the cool edge of a cup to his lips. He wants to spit it all out, or maybe drown in it, but he supposes he should thank Sakura for doing it his way. So he swallows the stale water in a giant gulp.

"Don't drink so fast-you're going to get a stomach ache. Actually, never mind. Sometimes I forget that you can't really feel anything down there. Sorry you can't masturbate."

Sasuke makes a face because that's fucked, but Sakura just laughs.

"You know, sometimes I kind of miss you," she murmurs.

She shuts the gate quietly this time.

...

Day 7. Or 3.

The guards bring him water today, but there are no shrill voices filling his cell.

He tries to be thankful and closes his eyes.

...

Day 8. Or 4.

"Hey, Sunshine. Miss me?"

He really, _really _wants to kill her. Especially when she's humming something about sunshine and lollipops and rainbows and can you kill someone with your mind? But she might be in it, he argues without himself. She might be inside of him, reading his thoughts and stealing his ideas like a _parasite_.

"Well, I missed you. Actually, that was a lie. But I had to deal with Naruto being Naruto, so now you get to feel your body again."

She's bending over him, face hovering over his, and he feels the urge to kill her start to calm. He could lift his neck and kiss her. Or headbutt her.

"Apparently he thinks that your comfort is more important than my life. I'd be offended, if I didn't try to seduce him and all. I think he still might be a little bitter about that."

She's tapping at his neck, and Sasuke hopes that maybe she'll gather her wits and just kill him now, because if she did he'd have all the respect in the world for her (which, is a hell of a lot better than when they were genin, when she was just too pathetic to even _think _of respecting). It'd be easy, he wants to tell her. I'll walk you through it. Just grab the trachea and _squeeze, _like you're wringing out your hair after a shower.

But he forgot that her hair is short and therefore un-wringable. He can almost hear his father chastising him on how you can't afford to underestimate the opponent. Shut up, Dad.

"There you go! You should be back to masturbating in no time! You can thank Naruto for that."

"Why am I here?" He asks, because like hell he is talking about masturbation with this pathetic little girl. He's bitter about her not crushing his throat. Has she no thirst for revenge? He had _absolutely _no problem doing the same to her.

"I don't know. Ask Naruto. Hey, has Naruto visited you yet?"

"No."

"Oh. I was hoping that he told you something."

"Told me what?"

"Yeah, I'm not sure about that part," Sakura giggles like chalk outlines on the pavement and numbed lips and crime scenes. Sasuke likes it. Really likes it. Off-kilter Sakura makes him warm and fuzzy inside, like lust in his heart, not his stomach.

Or, maybe that's him getting his body back. He's now vaguely aware of the cold floor against his shoulder blades.

"You know, you should really thank him," she continues, hands tangled in his hair, "because you'd probably be dead without him."

"Fuck Naruto," Sasuke snarls, because he still can't control his limbs and the continuous mention of his name out of Sakura's lips makes Sasuke irrationally furious, urging Sasuke to kill something _now _because you do not have the emotional capacity to deal with all of this shit.

"No. You will _not _fuck Naruto. God, why do I even have to _deal _with this shit!"

Her hands leave his hair in favour of cradling her head in her hands. The lust is back at the sight of her trying to grapple back her sanity. He lets it guide back the feeling in his hands, the sensation of his lungs breathing in, out. She's not the same.

"I love Naruto," Sakura mumbles, eyes closed, "and I love you too. Actually, that was a lie. I go back and forth on you. But mostly, I just wish I killed you when I had the chance."

The gate is slammed shut, today.

...

Day 9. Or 5.

"You know, sometimes I wish you had killed me."

It's not the kind of words that should be barrelling out of Sakura's mouth. Sasuke can't help but like it, the smack of her lips and the sigh of her voice. She's curiously sensuous in her oddness.

"But I know what I have to be. My job is to inflate all of your ego's, because you guys are damaged and shit. Make sure Naruto gets to save me-that's why I had to charge at you again, because Kakashi wasn't actually supposed to be there the first time. Because apparently, I'm the normal one."

Sakura snorts and giggles at this, earning a sharp grin from Sasuke. He doesn't mind this new Sakura at all.

He can finally move his legs, now. It took a whole night of prickling and buzzing in his veins, itching at the surface of his skin, but now he can shift and wiggle and kill again.

Sakura's right there, bare neck being flaunted as she ties up her glass-shard hair. His eyes are failing him, blurring as he tries to make out the veins and capillaries that should be protruding from her skin. It would be so easy, crushing her skull into a bloody pulp. Or maybe piercing her jugular, letting her bleed out. He could even tear her limbs apart, seeing that the guards didn't seem to give a fuck about what happens in the mini-prison.

But for some reason, he doesn't want to kill her. The lust sits in his chest, tightening around his heart.

"But mostly, I just wish you had killed me. Would have saved me a _lot _of trouble."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because, Sasuke. I'm a good person that feels bad about not loving you enough."

She gives him a funny smile like refracting sunlight and straight-up vodka, and Sasuke thinks, shit.

Somehow, he managed to fall in love her. There's something wrong with this picture.

That night, he dreams of cracked smiles and macabre confessions and ghostly sighs and Sakura.

...

Day 10. Or 6.

"You've been acting funny, lately."

"Really."

"Yeah. You're looking at me differently. Less I-want-to-murder-you."

"..."

"Which is actually kind of offensive, Sasuke-_kun_. I was pretty flattered when you tried to kill me. At least you thought I was worth killing."

...

Day 11. Or 7.

She's wearing the shortest skirt he's ever seen. Karin wore some pretty non-existent stuff, but this?

This takes the cake.

Sasuke was pretty sure that doctors were supposed to be preventing heart attacks, not causing them.

"You look like a porn star."

She pauses at his statement, a confused look on her face.

"That's actually not the first time anyone's said that to me. To which I reply, thank you. Seriously, porn stars have the best bodies."

She gives him a serious look before bursting into giggles. She's fucked, he decides, as she starts healing a particularly gruesome wound on his arm.

"You're crazy," he bites, because she's kind of hot when she's going crazy in her teeny-tiny doctor skirt, and it drives him nuts whenever she laughs. The parasite is winning.

"That's rich, coming from you."

"Fuck you."

"I already have you doing that. And no, I don't mean it like that."

The look she sends his way is meant to be levelled, but her deadpanned eyes are alight with something that sends that familiar lust barrelling from his stomach, wrapping around his heart.

"Just admit it, Sasuke. You love having me here."

No, he says, but yeah, he thinks. He's turning into a worthless sap over an insane chick. Someone needed to kill him, _now._

"Also, have some dignity. If you like my skirt, say you like my skirt. If not, stop staring at it."

She's gone before he can contemplate ripping out her throat. Not that he'd want to, anyways. The thought of killing Sakura has lost all it's pleasure. Instead, he lets the lust settle in his heart.

...

Day 12. Or 8.

"You're doing that thing again," she mumbles, before telling him to look to the left.

"What thing?"

"You keep watching me. Like you're waiting for me to crack."

She gives him a _fuck me _look, and he swears that if they want him to die they're doing a good job of dragging it out, slow and painful, because she's going to be the death of him. Get her out of my head, he wants to say. She's like a fucking parasite.

"I wish you were dead."

"I don't know, Sasuke. You've been acting weird lately."

You're want to talk, with your fuck-me looks and boozed-up smiles, he thinks. What happened to the tears in your eyes?

But he likes this one better. Acidic and honest. Earnest, yes, but less cotton-candy and more ice-water. But he's not about to let her know that.

"How do you know how I act?" Hurting Sakura is the only way he can keep her away. Kill the parasite.

"Touché."

Another _fuck me _look and a razor blade smile, and she's gone.

...

Day 13. Or 9.

"You owe me big time, Sasuke."

She's trying to stop his incessant headaches, the ones that he's had ever since he started looking at the world through a corpse's set of eyes.

"I looked it up, and since you were a missing-nin and all, your Konoha Shinobi insurance doesn't apply. Which means you have to pay for this."

Sasuke has never heard of any insurance for Shinobi.

"I have more than enough money to compensate you," he sneers sarcastically. Like hell he'd let Sakura do all of this without proper payment. Who did she think he was?

Right. A man who crushed her village with the handle of his sword.

"Oh, I'm not just talking about money. Flowers, chocolate, the whole shebang."

"That's assuming I ever get out of here."

"They might let you order by phone."

Part of him is offended that she didn't assure him that he was going to get out of there, but she gives him a champagne smile that calms his nerves.

"Roses?" He murmurs as she starts to leave, not expecting her to hear.

She doesn't respond, but before she closes the gate, his ears pick up sigh so faint he wonders if he just imagined it.

"I prefer fujibakama."

...

Day 14. Or 10.

She's changing his bandages, giving half-assed apologies whenever she pulls them too tight.

Which is often. It's refreshing, the new Sakura. Lust washes over him like the water she forces down his throat.

He can't stop looking at her. His eyes seem to be a little bit better, because he can make out the violet bags hanging beneath her eyes, like hard bruises pooling at her sockets.

And then he catches her eye. By accident, yes, but those greengreen eyes stare point-blank into his. And he knows. And he knows she knows. The parasite is winning.

"Holy crap, Sasuke. You're in love with me."

But he keeps his mouth grim and lips sealed together tight, dead straight like the flat line of a hospital monitor.

So Sakura laughs and laughs, because even after all the hearts he's crushed he can't even figure out his own. Or, he has. He just can't unclog the taste of blood from his tongue. Feels the lust, but just can't taste it.

"Shit, Sasuke. How exactly far have you _fallen_?" She laughs, her standing tall while he lays on the ground.

"I-oh, God, I'm so sorry. But I don't. Care, that is. Can't. I'm way too tired to give a fuck. I-_fuck_, Sasuke. Just _fuck_."

Sasuke thinks back to when the laughter of _anyone _from Konoha made him nauseous, the blatant reminder of how ungrateful they all were of Itachi's sacrifice.

Sakura laughs like popping balloons and sobbing children. He doesn't say a word.

Not a damn word.

...

Day 15. Or 11.

Nothing.

...

Day 16. Or 12.

"Sakura's missing."

_Get the fuck out,_ Sasuke wants to tell him, the blonde in the hokage cloak. Or _fuck you_. But definitely not _congratulations on achieving your lifelong dream_.

Instead, he says nothing, just thinks of the fucked up girl that is not spewing nonsense in his cell.

"I-fuck, Sasuke. Do you have any idea where she is?"

No answer. Sasuke thinks that it's fucked that Naruto trusts him enough that he takes no answer is a no.

Granted, it is a no, but Naruto doesn't know that.

"We're not okay," Naruto runs a hand through his hair, and Sasuke thinks no shit, "Me and Sakura, we just-we haven't been very good lately."

Good for you, he wants to snarl. But he does not.

Naruto leaves, and Sasuke feels his lungs breathe easier.

...

Day 22. Or, 18.

"Hey, Sunshine. You look like you've seen a ghost."

Sakura's there, popping cherry tomatoes into her mouth. Sasuke thinks that the whole concept of cherry tomatoes is fucked, because it's like him and her combined in some twisted way.

She's smiling at him, dangerously unsteady, like running your fingers over razor blades and burning your house down.

"Want one?" She's got her last one resting on her outstretched palm like an olive branch.

Sasuke takes it. Lets the smooth skin skid across his tongue. Wonders if it's poisoned.

But before he can sink his teeth into the fruit, there is a tongue being shoved into his throat.

He closes his eyes, and in morbid fascination, feels the click of her teeth against his and tastes pungent tobacco on her deceivingly soft lips. Her tongue wraps around the fruit, and Sasuke almost protests as she pulls away.

(But he does not.)

He hears the snap of the tomatoes skin being snapped, hears her swallow it down. Wonder if it tastes like him.

"Well. You can't have it."

It's not an olive branch, or an I love you, nor is it a sorry or a thank you. It's definitely not a second chance, either.

But it's something.

It is then that Sasuke realizes that Sakura smells like grapefruit.

...

Day-fuck. Does it really matter?

Sasuke is out of the cell.

He told Naruto he didn't want to kill anyone anymore. Was too tired to even bother. No, he didn't want to be a shinobi.

Just wanted to lie down and _sleep_. Maybe never wake up. That'd be nice.

His legs are wobbly, like a newborn sheep. He's surprised he hasn't fallen flat on his face yet.

He's also surprised that Konoha looks exactly the same. Didn't I set you on fire? Break down your doors? Crush all your dreams?

Sakura's standing a few feet in front of him, cigarette resting between her lips. The light just washes her out more, in her black clothes and olive vest. The bruises under her eyes looks like reverse-eyeshadow.

"You look like shit, Sakura."

"Yeah? Well so do you."

"Why are you here?"

"I feel kind of bad."

"I don't need your pity."

"It's not pity, Sasuke. You're just my type."

He gives her an odd look, because she's skipping stones and flipping sides, all at once, and it's making his head pound.

"I'm serious, Sasuke," Sakura continues, chewing on her cigarette, "you're just so...fucked. Like, for example, Naruto is damaged. Kakashi's a fucker, but not really _fucked,_ you know? Sai's fucked, and he's a fucker, but he's also a poser, which sucks. To be fair, he doesn't really have any other options, being Root and such_. _So that leaves you. But you don't really...care. Or rather, you won't admit you care and I don't give a shit. I guess what I'm saying is that you're an ass."

She turns to him, eyes glassy.

"Stop being a poser, Sasuke. It's not you."

"Fuck off," he snarls, because it seems to be all he can do to defend himself against this enigma. The words fall helplessly against his tongue with a stale taste. I do care, he wants to say. I care enough to remember that you were always so insecure and that you used to smell like roses and that you were the Gondaime's apprentice (still are?) and that you smell like grapefruit.

Granted, none of this is said.

"Be yourself, Sasuke. You're acting like me when we were genin. Actually, you're still a genin."

"I said _fuck off_." He sounds absolutely pathetic. Maybe she has a point.

"Always acting. Pretending. Except you're pretending you still want to rip my aorta to shreds and I was simply pretending I was endlessly perky."

"I wish I had killed you."

"No, that's what _I _wish. You either love me or kill me. I'm not so kinky that you can do both."

He lets her slip out of his fingers because she never really was in his grasp anyways.

...

He finds out where she lives, because he is bored but mostly because he is lonely. Ramen fills him with dead weight. He hasn't touched a kunai in ages.

It's super easy, breaking into her home. Her traps are mostly for civilians, easily disabled. Her apartment is neat and impersonal, save for a few faded pictures of her family and Ino from academy. There's one of her and Naruto, bundled up in scarves and toques yet still licking ice cream cones with giant and pure grins. Many of her and Ino making funny poses, while Kiba photo-bombs in the background. One of her and Shikamaru playing shoji. A few with Sai in them.

Otherwise, the space is cold and grey.

He sits on the couch. Tries to stop chanting _l love you _in his mind.

There's a click of the door, when suddenly-

"Holy fuc-Sasuke! Why-wha-fuck!"

She's gripping a reusable bag with dead-white knuckles.

"Sakura."

"Why. Why are you in my home. Don't tell me you want to burn it down again." She gives him a pointed look before moving to her cupboards, opening and closing drawers with vigour.

"I don't want to burn your house down."

"You've done it before."

"Sakura."

"Sorry. I'm being bitter. But to be fair, you didn't have to clean up afterwards."

"Sakura."

"Yeah. Sorry."

Sasuke clears his throat before thrusting a bouquet towards her approaching form.

"Are those...fujibakama?"

"Hn."

"My favourite flower." Sakura looked at him in awe. "Also, the cheapest flower. I-did you pick them yourself?"

"Aa."

"You should have just given me a picture of that. It's probably worth more."

"_Sakura,_" Sasuke sighed, slumping. This is why he didn't bother with people. Trying just led to failure.

"Sorry."

Sakura moved to place the flowers in a vase, before perching next to him in the couch.

"How did you know I liked fujibakama?"

"You told me."

"I-I did. Didn't I. Huh. You know...it's still not okay."

"Yeah."

"I still had to clean up your shit. And I still...don't really have the energy to bother."

"I know."

The two sat, staring at the vase of wildflowers. Silence blanketed them like a veil, deceivingly thin and wispy.

"You're like a parasite," Sasuke blurted, "and I want to hurt you. But I can't. Because you're like lust. But in my heart." What. The. Fuck. Was that. Sasuke cursed and tried again.

"You smell like grapefruit. And sometimes, when you're not swearing you remind me of my mother."

"That was," Sakura started, and Sasuke thought what? Absolute shit? "oddly poetic. I mean, for a guy who favours monosyllables and _fuck you, _you have quite a way with words."

"Sakura." She was mocking him. Gently, but it still stung like acid to his core.

"Although comparing you to your mother is more romantic in theory than in reality."

"_Sakura_." He was growing desperate.

"And did you just say I was _lust _in your heart?"

Sasuke threw his head into his hands, obviously frustrated with her attitude. She was playing with him, putting him into little puzzles and riddles. _Stop_.

"Sakura, can you just..."

"No. I don't think so," Sakura spoke thoughtfully, playing with the throw that was heaped at the corner of the couch, "because I have other things to do. First and foremost, Naruto. Then is Sai-that's why I went 'missing'-I had to deal with him."

"Am I really something you have to deal with?"

"I don't really know what this is." Sakura gestured to the two of them, still staring at the little bundle of flowers drooping to the left of the vase.

"But," Sasuke hesitated, "it's something." Like when you stuck your tongue down my throat and when you begged me not to leave. We're not sure exactly _what, _but it's something.

"Yeah."

"And we can make something out of it."

"Guess so."

"Do you _want _to make something out of it?" Sasuke enquired. He tried to quell the growing hope away, but it kept building itself back up again.

"Yeah," Sakura laughed, grateful smile starting to bloom on her lips.

"And Sasuke?"

"Hm?"

She reached out, fingertips brushing the petals of the fujibakama with a nostalgic look on her face.

"Thank you."


End file.
